


sense memory

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M, other messy business characters mentioned, spoilers for bluff city, spoilers for the bluff city season 1 finale (messy business)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 04:10:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20401468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: Agent Heard is careful and concise agent. He is focused on his work and his results reflect this. He submits his paperwork neatly and on time. He practises at the weaponry range for his allocated sessions. He asks only the questions that are required in order to complete his work. He returns home when it is required of him, for his officially-mandated rest and recreation time. He is the model of focus and professionalism as he strives to complete his training.As part of that training he is assigned a mentor agent, to foster camaraderie and assess his progress. Heard accepts that there is value in camaraderie, as he is required to do so.His mentor is Agent Squire.





	sense memory

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to maddie, for looking this over, and to annie and muna for their messy business tweets that partially inspired this (an elevator ride and a handkerchief, specifically).

Agent Heard is careful and concise agent. He is focused on his work and his results reflect this. He submits his paperwork neatly and on time. He practises at the weaponry range for his allocated sessions. He asks only the questions that are required in order to complete his work. He returns home when it is required of him, for his officially-mandated rest and recreation time. He is the model of focus and professionalism as he strives to complete his training.

As part of that training he is assigned a mentor agent, to foster camaraderie and assess his progress. Heard accepts that there is value in camaraderie, as he is required to do so. 

His mentor is Agent Squire.

Agent Squire is a Level Black Agent, and as such commands a great deal of respect. Heard tries not to appear more eager than is acceptable about his placement, although surely it speaks well of the Concern’s opinion of him that they would pair him with someone with a Level Black clearance.

Squire follows all protocols to the letter, is neither late nor early, and his reports always filed in a neat and timely manner. He always _ looks _ at Heard when Heard speaks, as though he’s trying to memorise every word. It’s possible that this is the kind of technique that becomes ingrained into you when you are a Level Black Agent. It makes Heard’s stomach squirm every time.

The feeling is not wholly unpleasant.

There is something about Agent Squire that Heard cannot quite put his finger on, something that pulls Heard’s gaze towards him every time they’re in a room together, that makes Heard hold his breath when Squire speaks, so that he doesn’t miss even the slightest inflection on a word.

They ride the elevator together, after Heard’s weaponry skills have been formally assessed and marked. Squire had nodded at him when he’d finished, keeping the results tilted away from his gaze. Heard has a strong feeling that he has been successful, the slant of Squire’s mouth seeming pleased and satisfied as Heard had turned back towards him. 

Heard thinks of Squire’s expression, as the elevator slowly moves upwards. Time stretches as though they were in a shunt, the space of the elevator feeling compressed.

Squire’s knuckles brush against the back of Heard’s hand. Only Heard’s extensive training stops him from inhaling sharply. Instead, he takes a slow breath in through his nose, letting it out as quietly as possible through his mouth.

He doesn’t move away. Neither does Squire.

It doesn’t feel purposeful. It’s a small space and the touch is no more than a whisper, more of a sensation of body heat than actual contact. This is the problem with Squire, Heard has found. Everything about him is more captivating than it should be, and feels all the more dangerous for it.

He stares hard at the slowly-rising numbers on the elevator, trying to breath in time with the floors.

The elevator jostles slightly between floors B3 and B2. Squire’s knuckles brush against the back of Heard’s hand again.

Heard feels the prickle of sweat on the back of his neck.

The elevator _ dings _open softly as they reach the ground floor. Squire steps smoothly to the side, one hand against the side of the elevator as he waits for Heard to exit. Heard takes two steps out of the elevator before he pauses, waiting for Squire to match his pace before he continues.

Squire walks him back to his desk, pausing as Heard sits down.

“They tell us, when we receive the agents that we are to mentor, not to be too heavy-handed with praise, in fact we are advised to be as sparing with it as possible with our own opinions, good or bad.”

Heard nods and waits, folding his hands on the desk in front of him as he looks up at Squire.

“Still, it seems unfair not to tell you-” Squire leans forward slightly, lowering his voice, although there is no one else physically around to overhear them. “Exemplary work today, Agent Heard.”

Heard’s toes curl in his sensible leather shoes. He feels blood rush to his face. He takes a breath to collect himself before he replies.

“Thank you, Agent Squire.” Heard pauses. “I appreciate your feedback.”

The corners of Squire’s mouth quirk upwards before he turns, walking down past the row of empty trainee desks before he turns the corner, out of sight.

Heard lets out a long breath, rubbing the back of his hand.

Heard replies to the memos and messages that have been left on his desk in his absence, carefully typing a report of his day’s activities before he leaves. He’s very particular with word choice. All things are recorded, even those that you delete.

He doesn’t mention the elevator ride. He wants to be sure of the meaning behind certain anomalies of sensation before he formally reports them. He turns the day over in his mind as he drives home.

The back of his hand tingles, the memory of a whisper of body heat against his skin.

\----

He begins to think of Squire even when the other man is not around.

Worse, it’s not even a conscious decision. A particular smell is too close to Squire’s cologne, he hears someone order coffee the way Squire orders his (triple shot no sugar no milk), the loop of a ‘h’ on someone’s old report looks similar to Squire’s handwriting.

Worse still, is when Heard pauses on the street in front of Shop’s window, caught by the sight of handkerchief the colour of Hector’s eyes. Minutes pass, maybe. Heard isn’t sure of the exact time, another concerning factor in the situation.

He gets to the end of the block before he turns back, making his purchase quickly and tucking it into the inside pocket of his jacket before he heads back onto the street. He doesn’t so much as peek at it until he gets home, holding the small square of fabric in his hands.

It is by far the brightest item in his small apartment.

It’s not his usual style either, standing out against any grey suit he could care to pair it with if he was to wear it openly. Instead he keeps it tucked in his pocket at all times, only visible to him if he opens to pocket to look inside.

He can still feel it there, through the day, a square of bright green-blue, hidden from the world, something for Heard alone.

\----

The work is much the same after Squire becomes Hector, except now Heard listens to the radio.

Heard’s always had trouble sleeping, even before he joined the Concern. It feels, often, like a waste of his time as an Agent, even if it is a physical necessity. Hector Hu’s show makes the nights easier to bare. Heard breathes in and out in the dark and listens to this version of Hector who is not quite Squire but not-quite-_ not _Squire, talking softly into the night.

Hector plays music, sometimes. It’s not always to Heard’s taste, but he never changes the channel. Even when he doesn’t particularly like the song, he can hear Squire in it, the soft glow of the radio illuminating the room.

The back of his hand tingles. A phantom sensation.

\----

The work is much the same, still, after Hector dies.

There’s a new person on the radio but they set Heard’s teeth on edge. Heard tries to continue the routine of listening, but the late-night radio no longer has the soothing quality it once had.

He finds himself stumbling to his closest, fumbling for a moment before he finds the small square of fabric he keeps tucked in his jacket pocket.

It in darkness, it looks the same grey as the rest of his apartment.

He studies the crime scene photos carefully, though he’s not assigned to the case. They have a deep cover Agent on it, Agent Paige. He’s told she’s assembled a team, some kind of external investigation.

He is not invited to join this team.

It wouldn’t be against protocol for him to have been asked. He tries not to let it sting.

\----

The work, after Hector is found alive again, is different.

“You will be departing for Blough City,” says Agent Ward. “We are in the process of assembling a team on your behalf.”

Heard nods. He looks down, scanning through the dossier.

“The Blake Blossum tape,” says Heard.

“Yes, officially,” says Agent Ward, “Your team members will not have the clearance to receive the secondary mission directive. It is Deep Blue Agents only. You will complete this task alone.”

Heard nods again. “Of course.”

She hands him a second file, thinner than the other. Inside is a single sheet of paper, with Agent Squire’s ID photo stapled to it.

“You will locate and subdue the person in this file,” says Agent Ward.

Heard presses his toes against the inside of his shoes. He nods.

“Of course,” he says again. Heard pauses. “When will I be informed of the members in my team?”

\----

Heard prepares for the mission very carefully. Being a senior agent means taking the care and consideration that Green Agents do not yet have the skills to.

He's not a fool. He knows that this is as much of a field test as it is a mission. That only makes it more important that he act as precisely as possible. 

He picks out a grey three piece suit for the journey. It's served him well enough on previous trips to Blough City, unremarkable enough to help him blend in. 

He straightens his jacket in the mirror, examining his reflection carefully before he nods to himself. Yes. Ready. 

Except. He glances towards his closet. He presses his lips together for a moment, considering, before he steps towards the closet.

The small handkerchief looks as bright as ever. 

He tucks it into the inside pocket of his jacket, and heads out the door. 

\----

After Agent Sleeves has been dealt with, Heard and Agent Seales smoke in silence while they wait for their car to arrive. Birds call to each other in what remains of the wetlands. The silence reminds Heard more of a stakeout than early morning peacefulness. 

Seales takes a long drag, exhaling slowly. "That Agent Squire that Page called, he was your mentor, right?"

Heard nods. He holds his cigarette away from him, the ash narrowly missing his shoe as it falls. 

"Must be strange," says Seales, conversationally, "to be on the opposite side to him."

Heard is very careful not to say anything. Anything he says aloud has to go into his report. 

He takes a final drag of his cigarette before he grinds it under his heel. "Car's coming."

\----

Status Report: Mission Ongoing.

No additional hostile agents to report.

Level Green Agents unaware of secondary mission and are in an undamaged condition.

Moving towards target with confidence, as advised. Final approach expected before midnight, Blough time.

(What Heard doesn’t add - the moment Agent Page mentions Hector takes his breath away).

\----

The moment Heard lays eyes on Hector, his feet begin to move. He can hear the others following after him, trying to match his pace. He's not sure what they expect him to do. He's not sure what _ he _expects himself to do. 

"So what do you think?" says Hector.

_ You're leaving with me now or you're not leaving at all _, Heard doesn't say. 

He also doesn't say, _ I thought you were dead. _

"Hector," yells Page, "Run!"

Heard is turned away from Page and the otheragents under his command, but he still makes a face. He sees the corners of Hector's mouth quirk upwards. 

Hector doesn't run, the slope of his shoulders relaxed and casual. 

Phones begin to ring out through the Courtyard, adding to the background noise of the endless jubilee and the people who are still calling for the film to be replayed. 

"No," says Heard, helis voice barely audible over the noise, "don't run."

Hector considers him for a moment. Heard feels Hector's eyes sweep over him, assessing. The back of his neck prickles with a familiar heat.

"I hope you enjoyed it," says Hector, and turns away, walking quickly down the stairs. 

Heard follows, pulled towards him as if by a magnetic force. He reaches out to grab Hector's shoulder and misses, his eyes tracking Hector through the crowd. The projection of the film flickers on Hector's skin. Heard barely blinks, not trusting himself to look away lest Hector disappear again, this time permanently. 

Heard's still not entirely sure what his plan is. He knows, absolutely, that he has to catch up to Hector.

He does catch him, holding him by the shoulder, forcing Hector to look at him. 

"Heard," says Hector, "everything's fine, you can tell them the mission was a success-."

"How can I tell them that?"

"I got away, but- You solved the crime," says Hector. 

"I-I- I honestly think that was less than a third of what they wanted," stammers Heard.

"They always want more," says Hector, softly. 

His gaze drops to where Heard's hand is still gripping his jacket. Over the top of the fabric, the film ripples, the light of the camera point of view emerging into the strange otherworld. Heard lets him go, stepping back. 

He tips his head back towards the projector. "That place real?"

"The most," says Hector emphatically, "Nothing realer." He leans in toward Heard, so that he can hear him over the noise. "Do you want to go?"

There's a lot- He still has a mission - two missions - to complete. The Concern aren't big on loose ends. He can see a glint of Hectors eyes behind his dark glasses. 

Heard swallows. "I don't know what else to do about knowing."

Hector grins. "Me either, that's why-" he gestures at the crowd, the projection, "all this. It was the only thing that made sense. Couldn't keep it to myself."

Heard wets his lips, looking up at the projection of the vibrant, strange city. "How do you get there?"

"Let's go," says Hector, "it's a short drive."

The others come too, of course. Heard sticks close to Hector. He's careful not to touch, he's always careful not to touch, but he's close enough behind that he _ could _.

He takes the front seat, looking at Heard out of the corner of his eye as he drives, following Hector's direction.

\----

Turning left is the easiest decision he’s ever made in his life.

\----

Maggie Darcy leaves them at the hotel.

“You seem like you have some catching up to do,” she says.

Hector pulls himself out of the chair he’d relaxed into. “Don’t let us chase you out.”

“I want some decent coffee anyway,” she says, waving him off. “I can do that without backup.”

“I doubt there’s much you couldn’t,” says Hector.

Maggie snorts, taking the spare swipe card from Hector’s hand before she leaves.

After the noise of the day, the silence of the hotel room feels like a physical pressure. Heard sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at his shoes. The mud-splattered leather fits strangely with the worn orange carpet. 

He feels the bed dip as Hector sits beside him, and his breath catches in his throat.

"Long day," says Hector, after a moment. "How're you holding up?"

"Fine," says Heard. "You?"

Hector chuckles, drawing Heard's gaze back up. 

"If you're fine then I guess I am too," says Hector. He opens his mouth, then closes it, letting out a breath before he speaks. "Heard…"

Heard waits, pressing his toes curling in his shoes. 

"You turned left," says Hector. 

"I know," says Heard, "That was your direction."

"It was…" says Hector. He looks at Heard curiously for a moment. "You know, I didn't actually expect you to say yes to this trip. You could have gone back."

"No, I couldn't," says Heard. 

"You had a choice," says Hector. 

"Not really," says Heard. 

He feels the bed shift under him as Hector moves towards him, just slightly. 

“You always have a choice,” says Hector, “I want you to know that. Especially here, you always have a choice.”

“I know,” says Heard, even though, really, there was no choice at all. 

He taps the tips of his shoes together, some of the dried mud flaking onto the carpet.

"I have something," says Heard, "something for you, I mean. I didn't know it was for you, when I got it but I-" He fumbles for the handkerchief in his pocket, holding it out to Hector. "It matches your eyes"

“Robber-”

“Please, call me Heard, still,” says Heard, “I know it isn’t my name but, I- it’s-”

“It’s?” prompts Hector.

Heard’s hands flex. “It’s the name you call me, and so it is the name I prefer. If it's alright with you."

Hector puts a hand on Heard's. "It is."

Heard gasps at the contact. Hector pulls his hand back, an apology writ large on his face but Heard catches his hand again. 

"No, I- Agent Squire, Hector, I, I... "

Hector, as always, seems to see into the heart of him; leaning in towards him. Heard meets him halfway, the first touch of their lips tentative before they sink into it.

He feels Hector's hands push at the fabric of his jacket and he quickly wriggles out of it, fumbling with the buttons of Hector's shirt. Hector strokes along his back as they kiss, his hands rucking up the fabric, sliding under Heard's undershirt along his skin. Heard shudders, the small noise he makes muffled by Hector's mouth. 

Hector draws him further back on the bed, working on the buttons of his shirt. Heard follows, unwilling to give up even a fraction of the physical contact. He feels Hector smile against his mouth, the puff of a laugh, warm, against his lips.

Heard runs his hands across Hector's bare chest, drawing his fingers along small scars. Some stories he’s heard about. Some he hasn’t. He might ask, some day. For now, he commits them to memory by touch alone.

Hector unbuttons the last of Heard’s shirt buttons, pushing up his undershirt a little to unbuckle Heard’s belt. Heard gasps, pulling back slightly to look down at Hector’s hands. Hector freezes, his fingers resting on the waistband of Heard’s pants.

“We don’t-”

"I want to,” says Heard quickly, “But, it’s just- I've never-" Heard takes a breath, fingers flexing in the fabric of Hector's shirt. "I've never done… this before."

"This- Oh." Hector raises his eyebrows. "Never?"

"It's not- it drew focus away from the work."

Hector puts a hand on his shoulder. His touch is light, but Heard can feel the warmth of Hector’s palm sink into his skin. 

"There's more than just the work, you know."

"I know," says Heard, "There's you."

Hector lets out a long breath, sliding the hand on Heard’s shoulder to cup his cheek. Heard closes his eyes, letting the warmth of Hector’s hand flow through him, connecting him to Hector.

He feels Hector shift, opening his eyes in time to see Hector lean in to kiss him again. Hector draws him closer as they kiss, their bodies beginning to slide against one another, finding a rhythm. He can feel Hector hardening against him, a heat striking through him at the sensation.

Heard shifts, pushing at the fabric of Hector’s shirt. Hector wriggles out of the fabric, still kissing Heard, the movement making one of his legs slide in-between Heard’s.

Heard moans. He draws back, cheeks flushed, pressing his face into the crook of Hector’s neck. Hector huffs a laugh, drawing him back up to kiss him.

“I don’t mind if you make a bit of noise,” says Hector, “and as long as we don’t get so loud that someone complains to the front desk, no one else is going to mind either.”

Heard opens his mouth to respond, but Hector chooses that moment to rock his leg against Heard. Heard bites his lip, attempting to muffle the sound. Hector leans forward to kiss him again.

Time blurs under his lips, the world reduced to Hector against him, the heat thrumming through his body. He feels Hector’s hands go to his belt again. Hector doesn’t move to undo the belt, just put his hands on it for a moment.

“This okay?”

Heard nods, swallowing. “Yes.”

“If it’s too much… we can stop at any time,” says Hector.

Heard nods again even though he is fairly certain that he never, ever wants Hector to stop. That feeling only increases when Hector finally unfastens his pants and wraps a hand around him.

Hector presses a kiss to his slack mouth, slowly working him. Time blurs ever further. Heard feels as though every nerve in his body is turned to Hector, the flutter of his eyelashes against his cheek, the movement of his hand, the slight roll of his hips-

Heard’s eyes catch on the bulge in Hector’s pants. He gasps, hands fumbling as the buttons on Hector’s pants. Hector’s breath hitches, his hips rolling up towards Heard’s touch, a heady feeling.

“I haven’t done this in a minute, but-,” says Hector, “Here-”

He sits up slightly, pressed closer to Heard, taking them both in his hand. Heard’s breath leaves him in a rush. He grips Heard’s shoulder, hips rocking forward as Hector slowly moves his hand over both of them.

Hector’s knuckles brush Heard’s stomach. A thin memory of an elevator ride bubbles to the surface of Heard’s mind.

_ Oh _, Heard thinks, fuzzy headed.

He keeps one hand on Hector’s shoulder, the other moving to join Hector’s. Hector groans, pressing a trail of sloppy kisses along Heard’s jaw. Heard tips his head back to give him better access, sighing as Hector kisses under his jaw, down his neck, the sound of it turning into a moan as Hector pauses to suck a bruise into Heard’s skin.

Heard can feel himself beginning to tip over the edge. He clutches at Hector’s shoulder, throat working silently before he manages to find the ability to form words.

“Squ- Hector, _ Hector _, I’m, I-”

Hector kisses him, his hand speeding up, sending Heard over the edge. He feels Hector release him, his hand moving only a little longer before Heard feels a hot rush against his stomach.

They slowly lie down, their ragged breathing the only sound. Hector’s hand rests on Heard’s hip, warm against his skin. Heard can feel himself smile, an unfamiliar expression but not an unwelcome one.

“We should probably clean up,” says Hector, “Before Maggie finishes her coffee.”

Heat prickles on the back of Heard’s neck. “Right.”

Hector stands, offering Heard a hand up. They lean close to one another for a moment, a mirror of their poses on the bed before Heard pulls back.

“Do you-” Heard wets his lips. “Do you want to see how the showers are in this place?”

Hector huffs a laugh. “You know, I bet they’re alright. But let’s see if we can’t make them better.”

  


**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins on most place


End file.
